Merry!

So much merry Christmasing. Blogging will resume when I can.

This pretty much sums up the past 12 days.

sweating the Christmas shopping

We has just left the Arena downtown in our failed quest for the new third generation special Predators jersey, and I started making our way from downtown out Charlotte Pike to try Costco for some items on the sibs' lists. Mother, sitting beside me, had printed out everyone's e-mail lists (for those that sent them). Brother Mac had forwarded his wife's wish list to her with his annotations (without Emily's knowledge, by the way, and she was later mortified).

Mom: "I think I am going to need some help with Emily's list."
Me: "Okay, just read the e-mail out loud to me while I drive."

Mom read the list, which featured items such as a BluRay player, Wii, additional Wii numchuck, a bluetooth something or other, and sweaters.

Mom finished the list, put it in her lap, then sighed heavily.

"Well," she said, "the only word I know on this list is 'sweater.'"

LOVE the Franna.

Even so, Mrs. Claus picked out a BluRay player with Netflix streaming and a Wii console.

With a little help from Head Elf, now known as "the subordinate Claus."

clocked

My dad has been terribly sick so Mom has been taking care of him, but sleeping in my old room so she doesn't catch it too. Now that I'm home, she's moving to the guest room. I had to find and set up an alarm clock for her (you wouldn't believe how busy she is) before we went to bed.

So I finally move the furniture back from plugging in a clock radio and I begin setting the clock. I'm not wearing my watch. I am working the dials and turn to my mother next to me and ask, "What time is it?"

Mother looks at me, pauses, then answers, "Late...Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Thank you. I'll just set this clock to 'late' then. When I'm done I'll set the alarm to 'early.' Handy clock this one."

Christmas Sing

As a child at Ensworth, as my cohort remembers, the big all-school show was the "Christmas Sing" (includive of the dreidel song and other Hanukkah hits) In later years, diversity correctness lead first a name changes to "Holiday Sing" and Winter Sing" before it was scrapped all together.

Ensworth now has a fabulous new high school, with a campus that rivals most ivy-league private colleges, and the administration has brought back the Christmas Sing, folding into Grandparents' Day, and the winter All-School Assembly into a "Winter Concert" and assembly. My first morning in Nashville, I got up and accompanied Mom to Grandparents' day and was surprised to get to enjoy a Christmas Sing and a heavy holiday dose of nostalgia. However, our Christmas Sings were at night in the old gym on the old campus in a building that doesn't exist anymore.



My nephew Bradley, a junior, was in attendance but not performing. Ellen, not yet in high school, did perform with the junior school, as did annexed niece Grace.



As Amy Grants' kids go here (as do Faith and Tims' and other local famous artists) there were some celeb sightings. Amy was in a grade between brother Mac and brother Jay and I've been around her all my life. Mom used to do a lot of work with her through Theta alumni events. I haven't seen her in a good 15 years but I stopped and spoke, but only got a patient expression without recognition. I can't blame her—I spoke with some of my dearest teachers who didn't recognize me either. Not surprising 50 pounds heavier, balder, and bearded. (I sat quietly next to Bev Roberts and said, "Hi Mrs. Roberts. I'm Wilson Hardcastle." She looked at me hard and said, "Oh my word you ARE in there!" She clarified she meant behind the beard. Mom pointed out Ellen to me by saying she was across teh gym, halfway up "behind that old man in the suit." "Oh my Lord Mr. Katzman is still teaching here. He looks ancient." "Where is he? Do you see him?" Yes—he's the old man in the suit.")

Ensworth has CERTAINLY stepped up their music game. All the junior kids still have compulsory chorus and music classes (inclusive of a handbell choir), but the high school students have amazing elective programs of band, jazz band, and The Ensworth High School Singers.

The whole morning was awash in cuteness and I caught some of it on video. Mother and I were both taken aback, and I felt like a conservative old biddy, at the almost whorish outfits the high school girl singers were wearing. I've seen drag queens in lower stilettos and longer skirts. If I were a straight man I would have had a hard time controlling myself. A couple of these girls really did look like professional sex workers, and they are only in high school. I chalk this up to WAY too much time watching the WB/CW.



LORD knows that I am no prude (as evidenced repeatedly in this blog) but for fk's sake these girls could have at least tried to lower their asses or wore skirts below their petulas for GRANDPARENTS' Day.

I do need to note though, that the performances of both bands and the Singers were astounding. So good. And the soloists knocked it OUT.

Even in the slightly freezing rain, this was a wonderful first morning back.



And here's some clips.

on the whole, I'd rather have uncles

From the new reliable SF newspaper, the Appeal, news that (1) I am not alone in the ridiculous rental unit ant infestation and (2) there's not much I can do about it but spray Raid.

Which is not good news before I lock up for the holidays. I do not want to come back to crawling kitchen.

Epic Misney

My fellow comic book fans (I've always been a Marvel man) may appreciate if not love this graphic mashup of Marvel and Disney characters. There have been several graphic representations of the merger/buyout, but those were more an act of commentary (graphic political cartoons) rather than whimsy or satire.

This is just charming.


The fine print from the site:
Due Credit: T Campbell conceived and commissioned this piece, providing research and direction which was edited and supplemented by John Waltrip. The artwork itself is John's. Legalisms: All characters depicted in the above original artwork are properties of Marvel Entertainment, Inc., the Walt Disney Co., and/or Pixar Animation Studios, with

Country Western meets North Pole

But only the former for dancing. "Country Western dancing" sounds nice. "North Pole dancing" sounds just all sorts of wrong.

Scenes from the Sundance Saloon Holiday Ball and Toy Drive—

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Flickr set.

Yuletide Gay

Lots of hugs and big Ho-Ho-Ho's to our favorite Castro Mountaintop hosts David and Sean!

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Flicker set.

It's beginning to look a lot like Shilpa

everywhere we go!

Wednesday last was Shilpa's birthday, and we gathered for her favorite game: Brain Farts Trivia at the Lookout. But we met her at a beautiful and somewhat secret bar in the Mission: Morac. She recommended this as (1) it's sultry and gorgeous, and (2) it's unknown and we could take it over. Which we did. If you're walking down 16th between Valencia and Mission, don't blink because you'll miss it. There's not even a sign, but there is a dark leather smoking lounge out front. They also serve hookahs, which was much fun for those inclined.


We placed well in the first round, but had our paper taken before we could write in all of our answers (We brainstorm on our own pads before copying over final answers. We take this a BIT seriously.) Even though our absent correct answers would have made us the clear winners, it was more fun to tie as that put Shilpa into the Lightning Round! She pulled some of those answers out of her sleigh and we scraped through to victory (the theme was Christmas songs).


Our team name was "It's beginning to look a lot like Shilpa," and every time it was read aloud, our team would chorus "...everywhere you gooooooo." It's a thing now.

Happy Birthday Shilpa!

Flickr set.

Boys for Tots

This weekend kicked off the holiday party season. This weekend's cavalcade of parties culminated Sunday in the lovely—in style and attendees—Toys for Tots SF cocktail party held at Harry Denton's Starlight Room. Thanks to fab organizers and hosts Brian Backus, Derek Barnes, Julie Candice, Chris Carnes, John Caruso, John Crandon, Ellen Goodman, Marc Freed-Finnegan, Arthur Goodrich, Tony Jenkins, Gregg Lynn, and Will Spendlove.

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Brandon Miller and Mark.........................................Aaron Rainey and Robert Heymann

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Scott Thibodeaux & Steven Spencer-Steigner ................. Natesh Daniel & Wilson Hardcastle

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Lance Holman and Matt Fadness............................Ross Fischer (and Matt's head)

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Brian Lammers and Jason Dorn.....................Brandon Miller and Wilson Hardcastle
Some of the more hard-core holiday revelers managed to get in a wardrobe change afterward and join me for the final few hours of dancing at Sundance Saloon. Which really is the best way to shut down a weekend. The Sundance Saloon holiday benefit/Toys for Tots party is next Sunday.

Flickr set.

Ga Ga for the Cal Bears

Can't get enough Glee? Take a sample of this pretty great performance of UC Berkeley's Noteworthy at the Ninth Annual West Coast Acapella Showcase.



As I've said before, I love people who embrace the silly fun. And these kids perform as if everyone's watching, and they love it.

snow falling on shady pines

After a long hiatus, I finally got to catch up with Guy on Friday night, and we went to the very funny drag rendition of The Golden Girls: The Christmas Episodes! Starring Pollo Del Mar, Heklina, Cookie Dough and Matthew Martin. It runs through December 26 and is an unusually delightful holiday treat, like that battery-operated sweater you can't believe your aunt sent you.


Go and have a good time!

Ho, ho, ho and ho.

dressy casual wasted

Elegantly Wasted 5: Happy birthday Jason Dorn (happy 40th!), Michael DG, Scott Showalter, and Tim Steele. Taken at Fly (formerly Brick at Sutter and Larkin) in San Francisco.

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shopping SPREE

Shilpa and I ducked down to Union Square over the weekend, and while I usually try to avoid Union Square and the insane shoppers and oblivious tourists, in the Christmas madness there is a fun energy to the whole thing. And of course I love all of the ridiculous decorations.

Standing in the star in front of Macy's, I decided we had to take photos. This, however, meant stationing the camera across the street and visually dodging traffic. It was all worth it though, and we both felt a giddy sort of rush from the abject silliness of it all. Only after posing did I notice the two professional photographers covering the "shopping bonazna" scene, and they quickly pounced to catch my pose. And later Shilpa's. I believe we made it into some papers somewhere.

The whole laughable experience made me realize one thing (which bore tweeting):


Life is more fun when you have no shame.

It's sad what joy people don't feel because they are afraid someone will look at them.

Dance like no one's watching! I'm just grateful I can hear the music.

Just listen to the music of the traffic of the City.



Flickr set.

tis the season

To be too busy to blog!

I sat down to crank some out tonight, but it is so cold my fingers are shaking over the keyboard. IAnd I've stayed up far too late back-blogging bits from November.

You'll have to make do with the FaceBook updates while the crazy continues :)

shopping for office holiday decorations

Wilson to Shilpa: Oh my God. You are gayer than I am.
Shilpa to Wilson: It's called being a girl.

decking the halls

Skot Land and the Shilpa came over this weekend for a little nog and apartment decking. For these elves, the holidays are just all about the hats.



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Margaret McAlliser likes this.

November was crazy with the busy. After a manic week before the Nashville trip was the manic week of the Nashville trip, followed by an unrelenting work schedule until life-long friend Margaret stopped into town for Thanksgiving week. (Then, of course, was the mania of Thanksgiving itself, which then hurled me headlong into the Holidaze.)

Margaret and I grew up almost next door to each other and have been friends since birth (well, hers, not mine, being older and all). Basically, I refer to Marg as my "pseudo sister." As with many other friends, FaceBook has enabled us to feel close while far away.

And both of us are a little like junkies on the FaceBook, and it became a running gag to mobile upload photos and status updates on everything we did. And using FourSquare, my friends where getting up-to-the-minute notifications of our whereabouts. The constant stream amused many, and understandably annoyed some. We thought we were hilarious, which is all we cared about.



Margaret McAllister likes this.

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I found an excellent B&B (basically, an in-law apartment with a garden) in the Castro and we managed to cover the town during the week leading up to Thanksgiving.

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OMG the macarons at Paulettes! (Hayes Valley) Ridiculously good. Be sure to try the raspberry ones.

Shilpa and I were furloughed for the week (budget cuts at work) and she was kind enough to host dinner for me and Marg and some of our southern friends, Georgia bulldogs, or otherwise friends. She and Lindsay, fellow Kappa Kappa Gamma sisters and sports fans, became immediate BFFs and it turns out Lindsay's sister works in a department similar to Margaret's at Margaret's company in Atlanta. Small world indeed. I thought I had left my phone at home, so the only shot I took was with the iPhone.

With my iPod now fully loaded with music videos, by the end of the night we turned Shilpa's apartment into the Midnight Sun. And as so few of us were working on Tuesday morning, the "end of the night" was around four.

Margaret also managed to convince me to drive over to Berkeley just so she could get a salad at Café Intermezzo. ("All the way to Berkeley for a salad?! It's not like it's going to be fresh." "No! They make everything fresh!" "I meant the produce. It's winter. It's not like the tomatoes just fell off the vine...") But it was a beautiful day for a drive and a walk around Berkeley. And of course the salads were amazing (what IS it about their poppy seed dressing? On second thought, given Berkeley's reputation, I probably shouldn't ask.).



Margaret McAllister likes this.
There were even colorful vestiges of fall around campus.


We finished the afternoon with a tourist-required and tasty trip to Ghirardelli Square.

Wilson Hardcastle likes this.

After disco naps we joined Skot Land for a sneak peek (thanks Riley!) of The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Skot and Marg were perfect company for that romp of a flick. After a late and light dinner at Harvey's, where we unwittingly walked into stand-up comedy night (Harvey's was a must-see for Marg considering all of the notes and photos she gets from me there.). We were tired but thought we would hit a Castro bar or two just for the experience, even though it was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and all but dead. As people had been making Midnight Sun jokes at the dinner over at Shilpa's, we thought we'd stop in there. Luckily for us, we passed the lovely and talented Ryan Rigazzi on his way home from BBB—I had not taken Margaret to the show as last I heard they had to cut back the Tuesday performances, but they are now back on a holiday schedule. Alas!

Ryan was still a bit wired from the show and joined us for a drink at the Midnight Sun before walking home up the hill. And so Ryan shared our WTF moment when we walked into the disco video bar and there was neither disco nor video, but a drum set, keyboard, and signs for "open mic night." Seriously? It was all rather odd.

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Finally, Wednesday morning came and Margaret had to leave to join her family at brother Andrew's in San Diego.

Definitely an awesome visit.

But all good things must come to an end.


And Margaret had to leave the magical City by the Bay.


Margaret McAllister did not like that.


Flickr set.